


Apple of My Eye

by MysteryWriter36



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Engagement, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Reader-Insert, Swearing, sex mention, they go to an apple orchard lol, this was a prompt fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 18:32:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12659064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysteryWriter36/pseuds/MysteryWriter36
Summary: James takes you to apple orchard, and it's way too hot but things end perfectly.





	Apple of My Eye

Of all the bad decisions you’ve made in your life, you would have to say that agreeing to visit an apple orchard in the middle of summer was among the top three. The sun was glaring down on both of you, and even in a tank top and shorts you were still sweating like hell.

“James, remind me again what the fuck we’re doing here.” you said angrily as the two of you walked amongst the many trees in the orchard. James chuckled in response.

“Relax, (Y/N). You’re gonna enjoy what I have planned, I promise!”

“Unless the endgame involves apple pie, I highly doubt it.” you grumble.

James leads you through the orchard, pointing out the different kinds of apples and tell you a bit about them. For every different kind the two of you came across, you would look for a tree with a branch low enough that you or James could pick an apple from, and the two of you would share the apples as you continued your way through the orchard.

Eventually, the two of you find yourselves in a large clearing with a lake, which must be, according to James, the center of the orchard. The two of you sit by the lake and relax. You take a couple water bottles out of a bag that James brought, and toss one of the bottles at your boyfriend.

“Drink some water before the sun kills you.” you say, a bit of playfulness in your voice. The anger from earlier has faded, but the sweat making your shirt cling to your skin is still uncomfortable.

He doesn’t say anything. Just hums in acknowledgement as he nods and opens the bottle, almost immediately downing half of it.

“Hey, slow down, you act like you haven’t seen water in years!” you say, opening your own bottle and taking a few gulps.

James still isn’t speaking. He’s biting his lip, his eyes locked on the lake in front of him. You’ve always been able to tell when James is nervous, and this is definitely one of those times. But before you van say anything, he catches you staring at him, and opens his mouth.

“So, uh, (Y/N),” he begins awkwardly. You smile gently as he begins to stutter a bit, and lean over to peck him on the lips.

“Relax, sweetheart. It’s okay. You can tell me anything.” you whisper against his lips. He smiles, and you can feel the breath of relief he releases. He’s not quite relaxed, but your words have calmed him considerably.

He clears his throat before asking, “Have you ever thought about changing your name?”

You pause. You sift through your memories, trying to find an answer to James’ question.

“When I was a kid I wanted to change it, yeah. I wanted to pick a cooler name than (Y/N).” you answer.

James smiles, and it’s that same nervous smile you’ve seen a few times. Like when he asked you out on a date for the first time, or the night he asked if you finally wanted to try having sex, or-

Wait.

Was he….

“Why?” you ask, “What did you have in mind?”

He gulps.

“I was thinking something more along the lines of (Y/N) Madison.” he says, his gaze locked with yours, eyes hopeful.

Tears gather in the corners of your eyes and your arms wrap around him as you begin crying on his shoulder.

“Yes! A hundred times yes, oh my god yes! I love you!”

James embraces you, and when you pull back to kiss him you notice that he’s crying too.

“Why are you crying?” you ask him.

“Because the perfect person, the love of my life, has said yes to marrying me and I am the happiest man in the world right now.” he whispers, his voice strained.

Even though it’s just the two of you, alone in the middle of an apple orchard, the whispering seems appropriate. It feels intimate and it feels right.

Once the two of you stop crying, James says, “I’m sorry I don’t have a ring. And I’m sorry I didn’t propose traditionally.”

You shake your head.

“Fuck the ring, fuck tradition- you’re all I need. I love you, James Madison.”

“I love you, too, (Y/N).”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed this! I don't currently take requests, but I'm open to talking about fic ideas on my tumblr @mysterywriter36


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